TTYL...My BFF is in town! BBL

I'll be back later (BBL) . . . my best friend forever (BFF) Kim Woolery is in town and staying with me. We are doing the girl-friend thing - each other's hair (it helps we're both stylists); watching 'chick flicks ('Atonement' last night); eating snacks, drinking wine, then switching to coffee; talking, catching up, talking talking talking until four in the morning last night.
Today we are hitting the road, meeting up with other friends and going to breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Talk to you later (TTYL)!

How the Blues Heals my Blues

Music heals the soul and my soul is in dire need of healing. So, I have been submerging myself in music as if it were a body of water. I have been diving into the sounds, swimming through the chords, floating on the rhythms, surfing the ripples and waves.
I am truly blessed to be surrounded by friends (guitarist Jim McCarty - above; Johnny "Bee" on drums) who also happen to be extraordinary musicians. And I was fortunate, this past weekend, to witness a rare event . . . to immerse my soul into Blues, Jazz and Rock and Roll . . . to hear four of the most talented musicians in the country who for two nights called themselves The James Montgomery Band. They played Sunday night (Oct 14) at Dylan's Raw Bar and Grille (previously Tom's Oyster Bar) on Mack in Grosse Pointe. The owner, John, is also James' brother (below)
James Montgomery - blues legend, harmonica and lead vocals - grew up in the Detroit area (he now lives in Boston) and learned first-hand from James Cotton, John Lee Hooker and Jr. Wells. He has recorded with Gregg Allman, Kid Rock; he has toured with Aerosmith, Springsteen, Steve Miller, Allman Brothers, Bonnie Raitt; and has jammed on stage with B.B King, Patti LaBelle, Charlie Daniels, Mick Jagger, and many other music legends.

David Hull - (above - on tour with Aerosmith) bass guitarist - resides in Boston and has played with the Buddy Miles Express, Joe Perry Project (he wrote many of their songs) and most recently toured with Aerosmith - filling in for bassist Tom Hamilton while he was recovering from throat cancer - during the first part of the 2006 Tour. (He played for a time in Jimi Hendrix's Band of Gypsies and is rumored to have played at Hendrix's funeral.)

Johnny "Bee" Badanjek - Detroit's greatest rock drummer extraordinaire - originally from the band Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels - who were known for their hits; CC Rider, Devil in the Blue Dress, Sock it to me, Jenny Take a Ride . . . played and recorded with Alice Cooper (Welcome to my Nightmare); Edgar Winter (Free Ride); Dr John, Bob Segar, Bruce Springsteen, Ronnie Montrose . . . Co-founded the Rockets and wrote almost all of their material.
(Left: Johnny "Bee," Ryder and McCarty during the Wheels days)

And then we come to my friend and one of the top ten guitarists in the country (the world): The legendary guitarist Jim McCarty. Jim played guitar with Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels;

Cactus (left- also called The American Led Zepplin; of Long Tall Sally fame); the Rockets (Oh Well); Buddy Miles Express; Mystery Train (his current band); he also played and recorded with countless legendary musicians like our own Bob Segar and he played one-on-one with the one and only Jimi Hendrix. Jim has been an inspiration to many rock guitarists who looked up to him and learned from him - like Eddie Van Halen, Ted Nugent. In fact, Ted was quoted in a 2006 VH1 interview as saying: "I'm the only guy in Rock'n'Roll that plays that hollow body jazz guitar and it's because in 1960 I saw Jimmy McCarty creating those big fat full chords like I do on "Stranglehold"; I learned that from Jimmy McCarty. Remember the name Jimmy McCarty. He is as important as Bo Diddley and Chuck Berry and Les Paul ...A god on guitar."
"Oh Well" I recorded this on my camera - it is dark and not the best sound since I was right by the speaker - but Jim's solo is amazing!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFSCMiBy6-s
Well, need I say how phenomenally well these guys played together and how amazing the music sounded and how fantastic of a time I had? Words can't express it anyway. I will never forget it - that is for sure. And to add more fun into the mix, my dear friend Monica Reed had an afterglow party at her lake view home in Grosse Pointe Park. She is such an amazing woman - with so much energy, charisma, beauty and talent. I will write more about her - an admirable woman of integrity - in the near future on my Sacred Footing blog.
Jim McCarty continues to entertain his fans (blow us away with his incredible talent, skill and passion) around town at places like the Blue Goose Inn in Saint Clair Shores and Memphis Smoke in Royal Oak. He is even better these days, if that is possible, according to one of his close friends; well-known guitarist and studio musician: Vince Knight.
Jim and Vince will be playing together Wednesday, October 17 at the Blue Goose Inn at 28911 Jefferson Avenue, St. Clair Shores. Michigan. For information call 586-296-0950.
If you live in Michigan, especially the Detroit metropolitan area; or you will be traveling through - do not miss the opportunity to see and hear one of the greatest guitarists of all time, Jim McCarty.

Now, getting back to how music heals my soul: it's funny how sad music, like the blues and songs written to invoke the pain hidden inside, can actually heal one's heart and soul in a gentle and loving way. One of my girl-friends and I had a code saying; "It's a Sarah kind of day," when things in life were less than good . . . when things in life had us depressed . . . referring to Sarah McLachlan, the melancholy goddess of gloom and contemplation.

Bernie Taupin said it best when he wrote the lyrics for the Elton John song: Sad Songs

Guess there are times when we all need to share a little pain
And ironing out the rough spots
Is the hardest part when memories remain
And it's times like these when we all need to hear the radio
`Cause from the lips of some old singer
We can share the troubles we already know

Turn them on, turn them on
Turn on those sad songs
When all hope is gone
Why don't you tune in and turn them on

They reach into your room
Just feel their gentle touch
When all hope is gone
Sad songs say so much

If someone else is suffering enough to write it down
When every single word makes sense
Then it's easier to have those songs around
The kick inside is in the line that finally gets to you
and it feels so good to hurt so bad
And suffer just enough to sing the blues

Sad songs, they say
Sad songs, they say
Sad songs, they say
Sad songs, they say so much

And that's how the blue's heals my blues.

The Summer's Last Hurrah

Here in Michigan, we talk about the weather a lot . . . but usually the conversations are about the freezing temperatures . . . when is this cold spell going to end, we need rain, we need it to stop raining, no more snow, please . . . but over the Labor Day weekend the talk about town was how absolutely perfect the weather was and has been. Clear, blue skies, sunny and hot, temps in the mid to upper eighties. The Labor Day holiday weekend in Detroit is always celebrated with many great city and family events. We Michiganders mourn the ending of the summer season (and begin dreading the colder months ahead) by partying all we can. Here in the Motor City we LOVE to party and being blessed with this beautiful weather in September only added to our celebratory spirit.

I tried to fit in all that I could, but not nearly everything, for that would have been impossible. I did not make it to the Jazz Festival (read Erik's Blog) or the Arts, Beats and Eats Festival or the Romeo Peach Festival . . . but I did get to Belle Isle for the Grand Prix qualifying races on Friday. The roar of those engines is such an adrenalin rush. We rode out to Belle Isle with legendary Bike Builder (Discovery Channel's Biker Build Off winner) Ron Finch. We hung around with Big Daddy Arthur P. from WRIF. Anyone who has lived in Detroit during the past 30 more years has heard Arthur's voice, "Baby!" on the radio. On the ride back we stopped off in Hamtramk for the Polish Festival to grab some food . . . pierogis, city chicken, potato pancakes, stuffed cabbage, kraut, and of course, the firefighters famous chili (not Polish but a tradition nonetheless).
Family gatherings and birthdays filled Saturday and Sunday . . . and I ended the long weekend with the Alice Cooper concert at the Michigan State Fair on Monday. Alice, another one of Detroit's homeboys, comes home every year to perform a free concert at the State Fair. He still rocks - he sang for two hours.

So, after a day of recovering - yesterday - it's back to the daily grind (or not). But, the weather . . . well, the weather is still absolutely beautiful and I'm soaking in all of this ninety degree heat before the blue skies open to gray and the autumn chill fills the air.

Crossing the Belle Isle Bridge

The gang at the Grand Prix on Belle Isle

One of the qualifying races

Detroit icons Ron Finch and WRIF's Arthur P.

Luke and his 'big' sister Alexia at the Labor Day birthday parties

Nathan (my grandson) practicing his basketball skills at the family bbq

Adam making a beer run before the Alice Cooper concert begins

The best I could do as the night fell over the crowd

Luke, Rich and Adam placing their bets

My friend Debbie, her daughter Zoe and me (back to my brown)
at the Michigan State Fair

A Moment of Healing

This very moment is about healing.

It is not an International Day of Healing, (although that is a beautiful thought) it is about this moment and taking this moment to think about ourselves and the people with whom we have come into contact with: family, friends, acquaintances, passersby, friends of friends . . . fellow bloggers (especially Jon and Maleah) . . . and sending out powerful prayers of healing.

Maybe you or someone you know (or know of) has suffered a loss . . . a death of a loved one, an illness, surgery, unhealed scars from past traumas . . . pray for healing and comfort and peace.

Take a moment
a moment right here, right now
close your eyes
inhale slowly and deeply
exhale slowly and completely
bow your head
in what way do you need to be healed?
who (in your life) needs healing?
ask God, the Universe, a Higher Power
to surround you and those people in a white light
open yourself up to the healing energy
ask for healing in specific areas
and ask to healed in any and all ways
unspecific and unknown
give thanks for your many blessings

A Groupie of the "Formerly Ofs"

We pulled into Pine Knob Amphitheater early; at about 5:45 pm. (I know it's called DTE now, but only by the corporate suits - it will always be Pine Knob to all of us here in Michigan!) Great White was headlining the concert that evening. The first band, L.A Guns, was to go on at 7:00 pm, so the parking lot was still quite empty for the most part. About sixty cars were scattered throughout the lot and coolers of beer (my guess . . . "Bud") were being unloaded and opened as eighties metal rock played from car stereo speakers. The tailgating parties were about to ensue as the mood of a decadent decade was re-created.

Debbie (my crazy rocker chick friend - Janice's incarnation) and I walked up to the "will call" window to get the tickets my friend Mike left for me.

Mike Fasano is a lead drummer from L.A. (Burbank). He played with the eighties band, Warrant. Among his many other current musical projects and band gigs, Mike is now back together and touring with some of the original Warrant band members, including lead singer Jani Lane (pictured in the above photo taken back stage after the concert. I am the 'groupie' in the shot).

Debbie and I passed through the gates, bought a couple of seven dollar beers from the Budweiser welcoming committee and walked around to enjoy the water falls and gardens. The summer evening was beautifully typical of Michigan summers; partly sunny and very humid with the temperature being in the high eighties - everything was in or from 'the eighties' that night (with 'high' being optional).

People watching was especially entertaining . . . big hair everywhere . . . mall bangs, long rock-n-roll hair and the eighties signature look - the mullet (as it had been said: 'business in the front, party in the back!'). I was truly transported back to 1986, that was until some karaoke guy started singing a horribly flat crappioke rendition of Bob Seger's "Old Time Rock-n-Roll."
Can't someone shut him up? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?

The crowd also consisted of many younger fans - children's arms being rocked and rolled about by their enthusiastic parents and teenage boys who are wise enough beyond their years to know rock and roll will never die.

And the outfits! I guess a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to get the attention of the rock stars . . . unless the girl's lucky and has a friend in the band like me! So, that saved me some cash and a trip to Lover's Lane - I wore my worn in and dearly loved jeans and my old Harley boots. Oh, and of course a shirt. But, the rock fashion spectacular was a hoot to watch. A hoot I say!

The L.A Guns opened the show. They really warmed us all up - but then rock and rollers are always ready for a reason to jump and scream and get all hot and sweaty.

Jani Lane and the "Formerly Ofs," (that's Mike's band) were up next. I took some great shots from the second row. Everyone that close closely eyes everyone else . . . girls sizing each other up competition style to see who will get further and farther back stage; guys looking for potential after show action with the thinking that because they are so close to the stage they are themselves are rock stars in the second degree. I was so proud of Mike and so happy to see him perform with his old gang at a big venue again. This is what he does - he is an L.A. rock musician/drummer - and he loves it.

Jani Lane and Chad

Lane, Shawn and Dario ( the boy wonder at the 'just turned' age of eighteen)

The meet and greet signing after the show

Did I feel guilty not having to stand in a long line for this hug? Hell No!

After some more beer, a few Doritos and a Twinkie backstage, (yes, that's how rock stars party! They eat Twinkies - and that folks is the real answer to how and why Rock and its Rollers will live forever - have you ever seen a molded Twinkie?) Debbie and I went side stage to catch some of Great White's act.

To see that sea of people - the packed crowd - from that angle is amazing! I could feel the energy being poured forth from all of the appreciative fans who were slowly pushing their way toward the stage as the night got later and later.

And that was my groupie experience.
I am a former groupie of the "Formerly Ofs."
The end
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The Sounds of the City

A couple of months ago I moved a few miles south - to Detroit. Not into a trendy lush loft or a gated community or even the historical district. I moved to a hundred year old brick home on an average street in the city limits.


The few streets south of me are well maintained and semi-protected by a neighborhood watch. Day lilies grow tall in front of beautiful old brick homes. Cars are off the streets and neatly parked in driveways or garages. Children play on mowed lawns under a parent's watchful eye.


The few streets north of me are the ones that come to mind when one hears the words; the hood, the ghetto, or 'Detroit city' for that matter. Broken appliances and ripped up couches perpetually wait at curb-sides with other garbage to be cleaned up at the next big trash pickup. Abandoned vehicles, some resting on a pile of bricks where the wheel once was, line the streets leaving only enough room for one car to pass one way. Vacant, burned houses are left to rot, adding to the city's decay. They are welcome invitations to un-welcomed disaster in an already fragile community. Stray dogs wander between houses sniffing for food (when they are not left dead in the road for days) and skinny stray cats dart back and forth between cars. Young children walk around looking for something to do as if none of this harsh reality exists in their eyes (probably because it's all they know) while crack heads, prostitutes and drug dealers go about their daily routines. The other day I saw the Detroit Police Gang Squad down that way making an arrest. Things I never really saw before or cared to know about while I lived in my comfy yuppie town just a few miles north.

I have learned to decipher the difference between the sounds of firecrackers and shotguns. Yes, the sounds of shot guns are real, and within my earshot.
"Those were bullets." I can now say, proud that I am correct.

The kids play basketball on my street. They ride their bikes and try to keep busy during the lazy, mundane summer days. There are no beautiful parks or community pools. Occasionally, the neighborhood kids might hop a fence to play in the yard of the empty house for sale across the street. My next door neighbor owned that home but the taxes got too high for him to be able to keep. Pity, uh, the city needs people to buy these homes and maintain them, but the taxes are so high for the little or complete lack of services that the residents receive here. Suburbanites don't want to trade their comfort, safety and taxpaying services for what exists behind door number 313. (Detroit's area code for those of you unfamiliar with the "three-one-three.") Gone are the days of pizza delivery for me, but the ice cream trucks do come by frequently. They add their musical twangs to the woofers and tweeters and the heavy bass of hip hop that beat and vibrate through the rivers of cement - the city's pulse.

The other night my white cat, Thea, got out as I let my Golden Retriever, Emmy, in. My son, Luke and I ran around the street for almost twenty minutes trying to catch her. She is used to being outdoors, but I have not let her out since we moved to Detroit; for safety reasons. Here I am, no shoes running with a can of cat food to try to bribe her or trap her. I was on a mission and I didn't feel like I was in harm's way by frantically running barefoot down my street and between my neighbor's houses. The street lights were on and some of the kids were still out playing ball. Some neighbors were sitting on their stoops - I can finally use the word 'stoop.' Love that word! Needless to say, we finally captured her. But not before I smashed my hand into the brick of a neighbor's home in the process of grabbing her. It took two of us to bring her squirming body and meowing mouth home safely. Those were the sounds of city two nights ago.


Last night, the sounds of the city had a different beat in mind for me. No, not the normal fire truck sirens, helicopters scouring the neighborhood, loud car radios, or even gun shots . . . the sounds of downtown called me out this time.





My friend, Dennis Archer Jr. hosted a party at Coach Insignia on the 71rst floor of Marriott Hotel in the Renaissance Center. I almost did not go. I have become (too) comfortable in my semi-reclusive present state (sitting in pajamas in front my computer, reading, writing or just staring at wordless pages on a blank screen) and I did not want to venture out, especially to a city gala, alone. I changed my mind (due to some external urging and internal dialog).


I showered, did the hair and makeup routine, got dressed up and left my cave. I wanted to support my friend in his efforts to shine a positive light on Detroit by planning and hosting these trendy city events as well as publishing the very glossy and beautiful Ambassador Magazine. I have to say, I am so happy I went.




The 180 degree view of the city's lights, the Detroit River and Windsor (Canada) from the 71rst floor was spectacular. I almost forgot how wonderful it is to be out with the beautiful people at the 'who's who' events. The ambiance of the party was lovely . . . dimly lit with candles . . . giving us, the guests, the illusion of looking like the Ambassador cover models who were moving around as objects of art. And Michael Jackson's "Rock With Me," among other dance tunes, gave more rhythm to the night and inspired the statuesque goddesses to dance upon their thrones. After a couple of hours, a glass of Chardonnay and a few hors d'oeuvres, I slipped out quietly and unnoticed. I could not remember the exact time my cocktail dress would change back to my writing pajamas - and to my horror. So, those were the sounds of the city last night.


Tonight, I may meander down to the end of my street and join the hippies - as we call them - in their weekly drum circle and bonfire. Dr. Bob's holistic Center for the Healing Arts and vegetarian 'Innate Cafe' add an eclectic charm and much positive energy to our block. That good energy radiates outward, I'm sure, sending a vibe of peace to the surrounding communities of Detroit. Tonight, the beat of the drums will be among the sounds heard. I love the many sounds of this city.

Now, I must go and water my flowers and feed the birds - the Cardinals are calling me out. As my son, Adam, said to me when I moved here; "So, you're bringing a little positive energy to the city, uh, mom?"


Well, all I can say is that I am taking care of my little corner of the world - and God knows that this corner can use the TLC.

And yes, my flower garden has brought a few more butterflies and birds around here. They don't care what city they live in and they have no prejudices or opinions . . . a flower is a flower and a gardener is a gardener.

Lights, camera . . . lots of action

So many events, weddings, parties lately. For me, it's either all or nothing . . . feast or famine . . . I love the night life and I love social events, but I also love kicking back back on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a good movie (and a friend, too, when possible). Seems like I have been spending a lot of time putting outfits together, makeup on, blowing out my hair. But, I take what comes my way because it's life in motion. Things are always changing, including my moods! I'm a woman . . . and like a Viper - I can go from zero to sixty in 3.8 seconds!
Although, I think things are beginning to calm down for a time . . . I don't see any more invites laying around on my desk or stuck to the refrigerator door. Soon, I will begin to feel a bit unloved and forgotten about, and I will have forgotten my own wishes for quieter days . . . but until then, I am breaking out the face scrub, moisturizing mask and a good book.
The photo above was taken (with a camera phone) at a DIA fund raiser / grand opening of our new (Bashar) salon, HB, in the Somerset Collection last Thursday evening. I had a great time and the event was a huge success. Last night I attended a friend and co-worker's wedding. Today, I have a a few errands to run and some other catching up to do. I have some popcorn stashed away (my house is a revolving door, so I have to hide the goods sometimes!) I think I will watch an on demand movie . . . maybe "My Super Ex Girlfriend" or some other light-hearted chick flick comedy. I hope my eyes can resist scanning my calendar as a child scans the inside of the refrigerator . . . again and again . . . just in case something should appear that wasn't there before.

On Becoming My Own Product

SELLING OUT . . . What is the modern meaning of "selling out" these days? I used to tout the fact that I would 'Neeeeeeeeeeeeeever sell out!" Selling out was a sin. It was a lowering of one's standards. It was crossing the picket line of integrity and good taste. Looking back, I think I was setting myself up for a life of hardship, debt and privation by holding onto my arrogant and self-righteous claim.
I had girlfriends who 'sold out' and left our modern dance company to dance in 'Gentleman's Clubs.' (One went on the Vegas.) A couple of my girlfriends admitted they would never settle for anything less than a man who was very financially well of. (Which, by the way, my romantic ideals of love left me a single mother, while 'some' of my girlfriends are living in houses too big to clean - but that's what their housekeepers are paid for.) I swore if I ever went into show business I would never be in a commercial for something like hemorrhoid cream or that bad fire breath. I held strong to the belief that one day people would appreciate my ancient poetry and poetic prose because to admit I could write a mean Sara Lee jingle would be a nightmare in the literary community!
Well, well, well, could I have been wrong all along? I mean, maybe writing instruction manuals and information guides could have led to publishing my first book!
I am questioning my old beliefs, re-examining my ethics, morals and standards - maybe they are all TOO high.
My question has changed from, "What would I do for love?" to "What would I do for money?"

Thank you for the flowers

In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends - Kozuko Okakura

Where flowers bloom so does hope - Lady Bird Johnson

The Earth Laughs in Flowers - Ralph Waldo Emerson

They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream - Ernest Dowson, 1867 - 1900

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom - Anais Nin

It is at the edge of a petal that love waits. - William Carlos Williams

I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers - Claude Monet

We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses - Abraham Lincoln

Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive - John Keats

And 't is my faith, that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes - William Wordsworth

One of the most attractive things about the flowers is their beautiful reserve - Henry David Thoreau

Flowers leave some of their fragrance in the hand that bestows them - Chinese proverb

Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose garden - T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets

Blood and Water

My dad always used to say, "blood is thicker than water." What he meant was that blood, the family, is all we can trust and count on. This kind of scared me as a child, especially growing up around the insanity of alcoholism. I love my family, but a part of me knew, even as a young girl, that I couldn't count on them for everything at all times.
Then I wondered about the 'thicker' part of that expression. What did that mean? Thicker meaning more substantial? But isn't thicker also slower? Thicker can clog and back up on itself.
Anyway, that expression always stayed with me through my growing years, even though it felt more like a subtle threat or gentle warning than parental advice. And for a time, I did not look to the outside world for much support or understanding. I kept myself surrounded by a thick skin of family. I remained safe within the familiarity of the dysfunction.
As I got older, I started looking at the 'water' part of it. If blood represented family, than water must represent the outside world . . . like friends. It made sense to me. We can't choose our blood, the type, or from where it came, just as we can't choose our family, its type, or from where it came. (Excluding the karmic and spiritual explanations.) But we can choose our water (and there are a lot of choices these days) . . . where we get it from, how much we want, when we want it. And it is just as important as our blood. It is a life sustaining element.
In fact, I am very much a water person. Water calms me, inspires me and exhilarates me. We are baptized in water, we cleanse ourselves in water, we cool ourselves in water, we swim, we dive, we explore, we float and yes, we can also sink and drown.
There are many things that are all equally important in the grand scheme that is life. At certain times and under certain circumstances, we may need one of those necessary things a little more than the all the others.
I guess I'm feeling a little anemic these days.

Six degrees of Chuck Woolery

My friend, Mike, went a little 'click' happy with Kim's new camera toward the end of Kim and Chuck's wedding reception last July. I guess one could call this my "official MySpace weird angled photo." (MySpacers will understand) We all snapped a lot of photos during that weekend in Vegas . . . CLICK . . . "This one's going on my MySpace."
A small gathering of close friends stayed at the Bellagio in Las Vegas to witness and celebrate the wedding of my best friend, Kim Barnes to (my new best friend) Chuck Woolery.
I remember when she phoned me a few years ago to tell me that she had been on a blind date with Chuck, We never would have thought that this was her true Love Connection (of course, fun/pun intended).
For anyone who saw the wedding clips on Entertainment Tonight, I was the woman in the mint green dress, front row left, snapping photos of the ceremony.
What a great and memorable time. Chuck has now become my (ever so frustrated) date/relationship adviser and worthy political/religious debate opponent.
If you like Metal Rock check out my friend Mike Fasano's music page on MySpace
Due to popular demand - I have added my YouTube video

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qs4K5T4OiJw

An old friend all shiney and new

We knew each other back in those unspeakable days of Salem (or maybe it was Warren?). Anyway, I knew her then and I ran into her again, only her clothing was far sexier than in the old days - a lot more red than black. She is still casting spells but with a bit more irony, humor, and sadness and a whole lot more paper, ink and truth. This time, her cauldron is filled with the power of words.
Children gather at her hem hungry for the words to express the emotions she stirs up within them. And she graciously gifts them. She is truly magical . . . a gift to the planet.
Check her out at Michelle's Spell